Friends Forever (23 page)

“Maybe you should consider opening a restaurant with plastic food,” Andy teased her, and as he said it, the light finally dawned. It would be slightly different from the path she’d been considering, but suddenly it felt like the right one to her.

“It would be better than my real cooking,” she said looking pensive. “I thought the plastic doughnuts were particularly cute.”

“So were you,” Andy said with a warm expression and ruffled her hair. They never talked about the night they had lost their virginity to each other, but they remembered, and she knew they always would. She was glad he had found someone he really cared about at school. Her name was Nancy and he had met her in lab. He said he was crazy about her, and they had all the same life and career goals and interests. Who knew? Maybe it would work. Izzie had had trouble having faith in anything, the future surely, and even herself, since Gabby’s death. How could you trust anything after that?

Izzie wasn’t sure what she wanted relationship-wise either. She had dated someone for three months at the beginning of the year, but had lost interest in him very quickly. She felt like a ship without a rudder with no serious love interest or firm career goals.

She and Sean talked about the future when they had dinner the night before he left for D.C. Life after college was everyone’s main worry now.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said confidently.

“That’s what my mother says,” Izzie said with a sigh. Things were actually starting to come clearer, but she didn’t want to tell him yet, until she was sure. “What about you? State Department? Justice? Still FBI?” A lot of the students at GW went into government, and she could see Sean doing something more international, now that he was fluent in Spanish.

“Something like that,” he said vaguely, as she looked at him, but she knew him better than that. He was hiding something from her.

“What does that mean? What aren’t you telling me?” He laughed when she said it. She knew him too well, but he knew her too, sometimes better than she knew herself. She couldn’t hide anything from him either.

“I don’t know. I’m checking something out. It’s not a new idea for me.”

“Policeman? Fireman? Sheriff?” She reminded him of his earlier career goals, and he laughed.

“Something like that.” He hadn’t told his parents yet, and wasn’t ready to tell Izzie yet either, but she was like a dog with a bone.

“So?”

“Okay, okay. Just don’t tell anyone yet, until I figure it out. CIA
maybe, DEA, Department of Justice maybe. I have an interview for the FBI Academy. I’m hoping they might accept me without work experience first.” It had always been his dream, and now more so than ever. He was desperate to get in.

“What does all that alphabet soup mean?” She looked vaguely worried. She had gotten the drift of what he meant, and some of it sounded dangerous to her, particularly the Drug Enforcement Administration, the DEA.

“I still want to catch the bad guys, like the ones who killed my brother. The only way to do that is at its source, to go after the drug cartels in South America. That’s where all that shit comes from. They sell drugs to buy guns and arm terrorists around the world.” His eyes lit up when he said it, just as they used to when he brandished his cowboy gun when they were five. He had arrested her regularly when they had play dates at his house. He always put her in jail in his room, and then went downstairs to get something to eat.

“That’s dangerous stuff, Sean,” she said seriously. “People get killed doing that. I don’t want to lose another friend.”

“You won’t,” he said confidently, “and I haven’t made my mind up. It’s just an idea. I want to see what the FBI is all about. It seems like the most interesting of the lot, to me anyway.”

“It really is true,” she said with a sigh. “All of you knew what you wanted to do in kindergarten, and I’m still trying to figure it out. Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not. You’ll come up with something by next year. You’re smart to keep an open mind.”

“My mind isn’t open,” she said ruefully. “It’s just blank.”

“No, it isn’t,” he said gently, and kissed her on the cheek as he took her home. “You’ve always been the smartest girl I’ve ever known, and you always will be.” She smiled at him, and they hugged again when he dropped her off. Talking to him made up a little for the void Gabby had left in her life. She knew it was a hole that would be there forever. Just as it would be for Billy, and each of them in some way.

Izzie’s father and Jennifer got married the day after Christmas. They had a small ceremony performed by a judge, and most of their friends and co-workers from the ACLU were there. And afterward they had a big friendly lunch at a restaurant nearby. Izzie’s friends and their parents were there too. Judy still looked very rocky, and Michelle was very thin again. Maintaining her weight was a constant struggle for her. She was in college now, had gotten into Stanford, and was doing well. And Brian was a junior at Atwood. Billy, Andy, and Sean were home for the holidays. Billy was wearing a leather suit and alligator cowboy boots. He looked just like what he was, a professional ballplayer who made a lot of money, and Izzie teased him about it.

“That’s who I am,” he said laughing. And according to the tabloids, he had a hot new girlfriend who was a dancer in Vegas. She wasn’t Gabby, but they were all twenty-two and didn’t need to find true love yet. Andy had just been accepted into Harvard Medical School. Sean had never told her what happened when he visited the FBI Academy, and changed the subject whenever she asked him. And Izzie was actively looking for a job and had one in
mind. It wasn’t a lifetime career, but it appealed to her for a while, maybe a couple of years while she figured it all out. She missed having Gabby to talk to about things. She had always been so sensible and mature about life.

And in May, her father and Jennifer’s adoption came through. They adopted a two-year-old girl from China who was the cutest child Izzie had ever seen. Her name was Ping. And they were thrilled. Jeff gave up his study to make a room for her, and Izzie helped them paint it over a weekend.

In June, the big day arrived. For all of them. Andy graduated from Harvard, magna cum laude. Sean graduated from George Washington, with honors in Spanish. And Izzie graduated from UCLA as an English major. And the week before she graduated, she had been told she got a job as an assistant kindergarten teacher at Atwood, where they had all gone to school. It was exactly the job she wanted for now, and her father said he was pleased for her, although she knew her mother wouldn’t be. But Izzie was sure she was doing the right thing. Finally. And she was planning to go to Europe again that summer, and visit Venice and Florence, Padua and Verona, and some of the cities she hadn’t gotten to the year before.

The ceremony at UCLA was serious and moving. Sean came to her graduation since his had taken place a month before, but Andy was still in Cambridge moving to a new apartment. Billy showed up and caused a major stir when people recognized him. He signed autographs for everyone’s brothers. And her dad and Jennifer brought Ping with them. And her mother had come too. It was one of those moments when Izzie missed Gabby terribly, but
she felt her there in spirit. It was hard to believe she had been gone for almost three and a half years. The time had passed so quickly, and Billy was doing well now too.

Her father and Jennifer gave her a graduation lunch at the Hotel Bel-Air. It was a beautiful sunny day, and all of them enjoyed each other’s company, and laughed a lot at old stories of when they were younger and the things they did then, and the mischief they got into. Sean and Billy told about the first day in kindergarten when she had served them lunch at the picnic table with plastic food.

“And we’ve been friends ever since,” Sean said, looking at her warmly.

She told them all about her new job then as the assistant kindergarten teacher at Atwood. Her father looked proud of her, and her mother gave her a disapproving look.

“I think you’ll have fun with that,” Sean said quietly. “You’re good with little kids.” He had watched her often with Billy’s twin sisters, who were four now, and going to the same nursery school Billy and Brian had, and would probably go to Atwood in another year.

“I don’t plan to do it forever,” Izzie said softly. “Just for a couple of years. What about you?” she asked him directly, as the others went back to talking to each other. “You still haven’t told me what happened with the FBI.” He hesitated for a long moment, and then answered her.

“I signed up. By sheer miracle they waived the previous work experience. I figured that was a sign that it was meant to be.”

“You did?” She looked at him in surprise. “You never told me.” And it didn’t sound like a miracle to her.

“It’s what I always wanted to do.” She knew that was true.

“I hope they don’t give you dangerous assignments,” she said, but they both knew they would and it was what he wanted. “That seems so risky,” she said with a worried look. “When do you start?” She’d been hoping he’d be home for a while.

“In August, in Quantico, Virginia. I’ll be there till January.”

Her mother got up, ready to leave then. She had a plane to catch to New York. The others were all leaving that night. Izzie had already shipped her things back to San Francisco, moved out of her dormitory, and was staying at the hotel with her father and Jennifer. Sean was flying back with them. Billy had recently been traded to Miami, but he said he was planning to come back to San Francisco to see his parents in July. And he always visited Gabby’s parents when he did. Michelle had just finished her sophomore year at Stanford, and Brian was going to be a high school senior. Izzie had already promised to help him with his college applications. He was excited that she was going to be working at Atwood and he could see her anytime.

Sean and Izzie talked quietly on the plane back to San Francisco that night. They were talking about Billy and the life he led. They were both relieved that he seemed to have calmed down in spite of the temptations around him every day. Izzie wondered if he and Gabby would have been married by then. She suspected that they would. Without her, he had less to anchor him, and he was known for the pretty women he went out with, apparently hordes of them. He had never been interested in other women when he was with Gabby, but now they were a status symbol for him, like his expensive suits, his alligator cowboy boots, and the gold Rolex he
had on his wrist with diamonds around the face. But even with the fancy trappings, he was still the same boy they had grown up with, the little boy who had put his football in the cubby at Atwood, and had fallen in love with Gabby the first time she took the building blocks away from him. Izzie knew, as she looked at Sean sitting next to her, that in spite of everything that happened, some things would never change.

W
hen Izzie walked up to the familiar door on the first Wednesday after Labor Day, this time she let herself in with her own key. She had seen that door for thirteen years of her life, and walked through it thousands of times, but not like this. She walked into the kindergarten classroom and turned on the lights. The name tags were on the desk, ready to be handed out to the students on the first day of school, which was today. In an hour, they would all be here. Her name was on one of the tags too.

She looked at the familiar corner with the building blocks, and nothing had changed. The building blocks were new, but the setup was the same. They had a new play kitchen, in the same location, with a bright pink stove and fridge. And it looked like there was more plastic food than there used to be. She walked over to look at it, wanting to see the plastic doughnuts with sprinkles, but there was a chocolate birthday cake instead, divided into pieces, with pretend candles on it.

There was a dress-up corner, with princess clothes, police and
fireman uniforms, and a cowboy hat and holster but no gun. The rules hadn’t changed. The classroom looked no different than it had when they were in kindergarten. And if she closed her eyes she could imagine that the five of them were there. She wished she could turn the clock back and start at the beginning. This was where it had all started, when Gabby took the building blocks away from Billy and Sean, Izzie had served them all lunch, and Andy had arrived late in his perfectly pressed khakis and white shirt. He had looked like a doctor even then. She could hear their voices in the silence. And in a little while there would be different voices in that room, new faces, other children. And she was a teacher now, not a little girl in braids. It was a strange feeling, as she put her name tag on, and she expected it to say “Miss Pam.” Instead it said “Miss Izzie,” and Miss Wendy had replaced Miss June. It had all happened so fast when nobody was looking. The children of yesterday were all grown-ups now, and some of them were gone. She tried not to think of Gabby in her sparkly pink shoes as she put her coat away and put on an apron. Miss Wendy, the head kindergarten teacher, had showed her where everything was during her orientation. They were starting out with clay today, to get everyone comfortable, not musical instruments, then story time, and recreation, quiet time after that, and then the introduction of letters, numbers, and colors. The format was the same, even if slightly rearranged.

Wendy arrived just as she was leaving for the front door with her name tag on, and the kids’ name tags to hand out. She had the attendance list in her hand. She had already memorized their names and needed to match them up with faces now.

“All set?” the older teacher asked her with a broad smile, and Izzie nodded. The pitcher for the juice was set out with the plastic cups they would use. There was a platter of vanilla cookies, no nuts or chocolate. All of a sudden, Izzie could hardly wait. It was exciting to be here. It was her first day of school too.

“All set,” Izzie confirmed, and then went to the front door to greet her new students at the separate kindergarten door. The older ones would rush in through double doors a few feet away. The kindergarten had its own entrance, just as it had when she went there, and tiny desks and chairs. Izzie remembered some of the mothers sitting there on the first day. Her mother hadn’t, but some had stayed, though she no longer remembered who. And she remembered wearing a red shirt and new red sneakers.